You raise your hand and tentatively request that they go to Fuck Yeah! burgers.
There is silence for a moment, and then they break into snickering.
Jamal responds to you mirthfully.
Shit nigga, why not? Howsabout we go to Fuck Yeah Burgers?
^I’s cool with dat. Still prolly better than McDonalds. Maybe them whiteboys know how to season too. Those ones with the beards like sum heat.
<Maaan I mean. Y’know what, okay. Sure. Sure mane.
Although you are not oblivious to the sensation of being mocked, you still take great joy in their agreement. You can show them just how heckin’ awesome the f**d is there! It’s your favorite drive-in dive for some authentic grub.
As the car continues towards its destination, you take the time to reflect on recent events. You just used a g*n to shoot at folks, and nearly k*lled someone. Even though you were only doing what you had to do, you feel a pit in your stomach. Also, you think earlier you may have felt that sensation Impish was talking about, like a spider sense where you can tell when people are about to use their orb. It was just a vague tingling sensation though, so you’re not sure. You resolve to try and focus on it if you feel it again.
The two cars, yours and Low Life’s, arrive at a CVS. The occupants of both step out, and the gang crowd around Low Life to survey his injuries. Big Samson speaks up.
^Damn nigga, they busted you up pretty bad, didn’t they?
<Yea
^You think you gonna make it?
<Yea, I’ve had worse.
^…
^Aight.
^We gon get you patched up, okay mane? Just hang in there.
<Doin’ my best.
<Fuck man, they got your whole hand! That’s messed up!
<That it is. That it is.
Man… you don’t deserve this shiet. Don’t die on me.
<‘Preciate it. Won’t if I can help it.
They stand around him in awkward murmuring for a moment, and then quickly turn to enter the store.
<We’ll be back with the shit, okay!
<Ight.
im trans btw
